Merchant Of Death
by Anna De La Fere
Summary: One nightmare turns the cardinal's life upside down. Rated T just for safety. Enjoy and leave reviews.


He woke up to find himself in a small, stinky cellar full of rats. He couldn't remember when or how he got there but he could swear the place looked nothing like his private chambers. The horrible smell and dampness that surrounded the room teased his sensitive nostrils, making him crinkle his nose in disgust. How could he possibly end up somewhere like this? No, it couldn't be real. Perhaps someone was pranking him. Whatever it was, he would make sure to see his tormentor embracing death right in front of his eyes. But first he had to get out of there.

After roaming his bleary eyes here and there for a good five minutes, he finally found the door and rushed to it with a sigh of relief only to find it locked. Curses began spilling from his mouth like a stream of poison as he kept banging and shouting for help. It took him less than two minutes to realize he was trapped. A cool shiver of panic ran through his spine, breath hitching painfully in his throat as he collapsed on the floor heavily, unable to utter a single word.

He was already dozing off when the door opened with a loud bang, startling him awake. He blinked several times to let his sight restore and caught a glimpse of a shadow standing in front of him, very tall but blurry. Knitting his eyebrows together, he frowned at the stranger, waiting for him to speak up.

"Oh, look what we have here? A man looking as weak as a kitten. Shame on you." – Even the king himself would tremble at the look the stranger received from his prisoner but he didn't even move a muscle.

"How dare you! Do you know who I am? Or shall I remind you of my identity?!" – The prisoner growled, his eyes growing bloodshot.

"I am well aware of that, your eminence, or shall I call you Richelieu?" – The stranger bowed his head, an amused smile dancing on his lips.

"You will pay with your life for such disrespect! I will tell the king and he…" – Richelieu's voice died in his throat as the stranger gave him the scariest glare ever, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture.

"I am sad to inform you about it but your silver tongue will have no effect here. As for your dearest king, his royal majesty is currently at your funeral, crying his eyes out and thinking about how to rule the country without the help of his "loyal friend"."

Richelieu's eyes widened in shock and unspoken fear, panic claiming his wrinkly features, making him look ten years older.

"So, you want to say that I… I am…" – He began but couldn't continue.

"Yes, you are dead." – The stranger replied, savoring the grey look on his prisoner's face.

Richelieu paled as a sheet, the sound of his fierce heartbeat suffocating every noise in the cellar. He swallowed convulsively, staring blankly at the wall in front of him. The stranger waited for him to regain his composure and then spoke again:

– "So, how do you like your new quarters?"

"Where am I? Who are you? How did I get here?" – Richelieu asked, finding his voice at last.

"Don't you recognize your beloved Bastille?"

The cardinal's head shot up instantly, his eyes boring into the stranger's blurry ones. How could he be so blind?! Of course, he was in Bastille. Where else could a man like him end up after death?

"I assume I am in hell." – He muttered quietly.

"You may say so." – The stranger nodded. – "Don't you want to know why?"

"Yes… Please…" – The cardinal whispered barely audible.

"Because you are a merchant of death."

"I am what?" – Richelieu gave him a confused yet annoyed look.

"People used to call you merchant of death because of your cruelty. Have you ever counted the number of people who died in those dirty cellars by your orders for absolutely no reason yet you kept assuring the king it was for the sake of France?"

"Name at least one!" – Richelieu challenged.

"You tried to kill countess De Larroque and count mellendorf. You killed your own mistress and you asked your famous assassin to kill the queen of France herself!" – Death roared.

"Enough! I had my reasons!" – Richelieu fought back, his eyes growing bloodshot.

"Probably. But your reasons were personal and most of your assassinations had nothing to do with France's general well-being."

"So I became the merchant of death?"

"Some people thought you sacrificed souls to devil in order to become king." – Death chuckled. – "Oh, you humans never fail to surprise me with your stupid superstitions."

"But I am not a cruel man…" – Richelieu started but death cut him off.

"Yes, I know that you are just practical. However, it can't justify your actions. You brought death in Paris, you killed innocent people and you almost managed to replace the king."

"I…" – The cardinal's throat went dry, making it hard for him to swallow the bitter bile growing in his mouth. What could he say? People offered him their loyalty but he offered them cold graves in return. It was… Terrifying.

"How does it feel to have your soul covered with droplets of innocent blood? Do they remind you of your inhumanity, dear merchant?" – The cardinal flinched hard at the coldness he heard in his tormentor's voice.

"Please, let me… Let me make it up… I don't want to be merchant of death anymore. I don't want to kill without reason. Give me another chance I beg you!" – Richelieu knelt in front of death, lowering his head at his tormentor's feet.

"There's no second chance for dead people." – Death muttered harshly, frowning at his prisoner who looked at him pleadingly.

"I'll do anything. Anything you ask. Just… Just let me prove that I can be a good person. The king needs me. France needs me… Please…" – The cardinal begged, his voice growing husky.

"Stand up."

The cardinal obeyed without hesitation, forcing his stubborn body to keep itself upright. He looked his tormentor in the eyes and a shiver of fear shook his body as he found the sockets empty.

"I'll make an exception for you but I am still mad at you for doing my job. You have my permission to go back to life. Remember, you have ten years to make me change my mind. Use your time wisely or there will be severe consequences."

Before Richelieu could thank him, someone punched him hard and everything went black.

* * *

"Good morning, your eminence, did you sleep well?" – Richelieu groaned as his servant opened the window, filling the room with some fresh air. Then his eyes widened as he recognized his private chambers, all clean and properly decorated. His eyes noticed a shadow of formally dressed man putting a tray full of food on the table before moving to stand near the bed, looking at his master patiently.

"Breakfast is ready. Is there anything else I can do for his eminence?"

"You… I… How…" – The cardinal spluttered, looking at his servant as if he was looking at a treasure chest.

"Are you all right, your eminence?"

"Yes. It was just a bad dream. Go get my bath ready."

"Of course, your eminence. Please be quick, there's so much you have to do." – The servant bowed his head before leaving the room but Richelieu's trained eyes caught a ghost of smirk on his face and his stomach roiled with fear. It was going to be a long journey.

* * *

**A.N. This is my first story about the cardinal so you any kind of suggestion or disapproval is welcomed. Enjoy and don't forget to leave reviews :)**


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